Aeonian Hero
by Sin of the Fallen
Summary: No one said that just because the Nerevarine fulfilled one prophecy, doesn't mean that she's done. After all why make more heroes when you already have one? Alduin's free, Skyrim is at war, and everyone needs a helping hand. Nothing to worry about right?
1. Chapter 1

Aeonian Hero

Aeonian-Adj-continuing forever or indefinitely

A/N: This is the Skyrim story that features the immortal Nerevarine being stuck as the Dovahkiin. She's not quite all there, at least that's what everyone says, but she does know that Alduin is a great conversationalist; even if he's cursing everything from her toes to her mother's mother.

Chapter One: Anew We Begin

Ralof watched the Imperial Legion load up their latest prisoner, a Dunmeri female who had been found sound asleep under a great tree. He wondered why they had even bothered; pondering on how the men had seemed almost like they were sleepwalking as they did so. The exotic, even for a Mer, female was clad in Daedric armor. He had only previously heard tell of the fabled armor, and on top of that she was armed to the teeth with Daedric weaponry of all kinds. He was sure he had spotted _at least_ two daggers and shortswords, a katana like the Blades had had but much bigger, and a bow. Ralof got the feeling they _really_ should have just left her _alone_.

Almost frightened, he watched as the slumbering beauty stirred. "Oh my…It seems someone is bent on bringing the Apocalypse again." Ralof ignored her obviously insane ramblings and introduced himself and his King, completely forgetting about the cowardly horse thief. She nodded cordially and spoke politely, as one should when they are held hostage with rebel royalty. You never knew when being nice to royalty came in handy. "I am Nerevar of House Telvanni, among many, many other things." Ralof nodded in return and watched with wide eyes as she stretched her arms out; he had watched them bind her so how had she gotten free? "Like they could ever trap a Fox like me." Was all that she said in response to his silent question, as she then ungagged Ulfric. "Thank you for that Dunmer." Her eyes narrowed at Ulfric like she had caught sight of a skeever in her underwear drawer. "I have a name Nord and I have given it. Or are you truly without your cherished Nordic honor?" His king glared and she put the gag back in, much to Ralof's guilty amusement. The wagon was silent as they entered Helgen, with only the people of the town talking to break the suffocating silence.

They all listened as a little boy protested he wanted to watch their execution causing Nerevar to turn to the child and his father, shooting them a grin with too many of her teeth displayed. "I'm sure your son will make a fine recruit for the Brotherhood. Good luck and may the Dark Mother never seek your head child!" She grinned as the child paled and the father turned to look upon his son with horrified eyes. She was pleased by how the insolent brat shut his trap finally; Martin would have scolded her for her actions along with Vivec. After that she paid no attention to anything really, until she heard the virago of a Legionnaire demand she get down on the chopping block with the masked executioner hoisting his axe. Nerevar had learned much about the Legion while Martin had still lived and she knew the Legion never ever changed unless it had no other option. So she spoke as formally as she could, drawing on her time as various Guildmasters and Head of House Telvanni, and spoke in the third person as nobility was fond of doing in order to lure the virago in. "This one is _currently_ innocent of wrongdoings. This one knows the Legion's Code. For trying to execute this one without evidence or trial, even under martial law, your life is forfeit to this one." Calmly she drew her dai-katana and loped off the offending woman's head without as much as a twitch. She sniffed at the corpse imperiously, remembering how a Telvanni was supposed to act during such times. "Trash should know their place. At this one's feet."

No one dared to breathe as they watched Nerevar gaze upon the corpse in distain, except the Stormcloaks who were resisting the urge to laugh. A trembling Legionnaire stepped forwards. "You're free to go Lady Nerevar, our deepest apologies for our former Captain's offenses. She will be expelled from the Legion due to dishonorable conduct posthumously on the orders of our General." She nodded and blatantly cast upon him a bright green spell without care for the couple dozen witnesses, including the general of the entire Legion. "You will return unto me my pack and coin in their entirety." The Legionnaire's eyes glazed over and he grinned like a skooma addict on a high. "I should bring Lady Nerevar's things to her." The Legionnaire worked quickly and returned her things to her, with nary an item or septim missing. It was _then_ the Dragon swooped down and scorched the executioner.

The villagers started screaming, the Stormcloaks ran for cover, and Nerevar smiled widely at the Black Dragon that hovered in front of her. The Dragon could not give her an eyebrow arch, but she knew on the inside he was. "Strange…you do not fear me **Kril** **Joor**." Nerevar shrugged with a mischievous grin; somehow she understood the language he had spoken, 'Brave Mortal' indeed. "I'm no **Joor**. But I _was _admiring your **Brit** scales **Norok Dovah**, they're very nice and as a Fox I do appreciate the pretty things in life." The Dragon landed and took a step forwards and lowered his head to look into the eyes of the mortal who addressed him as 'Fiercest Dragon', neither paying attention to the awestruck audience. "I am Alduin. Do you fear me now not-**Joor**?" She looked surprised, carmine eyes widening a bit, before shaking her head. "No. I do not Alduin." He snorted, blowing a jet of fire into the ground. "Foolish, **Sahrot, Dovakiin**." Mighty was a word suited to one who felt no fear due to him. Alduin launched himself into the air only to find someone had hitched a ride on his back. Alduin roared wordlessly in fury as he heard the **Daanik**, doomed, female Dovahkiin _giggle_. No one dared to move as Alduin roared his fury and barrel rolled, trying to dislodge the happy Dunmer upon his mighty onyx back. "Wheeeee!"

The Stormcloaks watched deadpan as Alduin accidentally began to burn Helgen to the ground as he tried to hit the obviously insane Dunmeri female. In his tower Ulfric turned to Ralof. "Am I hallucinating this?" Ralof impressively resisted the urge to use sarcasm and satire on his Jarl. "No my Jarl." Ulfrin turned to his men, not knowing a certain general was about to say about the exact same thing. "Who else thinks this 'Nerevar' would make a fine Stormcloak?" All nodded vigorously. Meanwhile Nerevar was having the time of her life! When Martin had turned into a Dragon she had been envious, till Akatosh had left Martin a statue for all his troubles, but now she could fly too! She called out to her new Dragon friend Alduin. "This is wonderful! I'm having the time of my life!" Alduin said something she could not quite make out, but she was sure he was insulting everything from her toes to her ancestry. Using her strong thighs to grip his back, she began to pry off a handful of the fist sized onyx scales, which made Alduin more than a little _upset._ Quickly the kleptomaniac Fox pocketed her treasures just before Alduin finally managed to scrape her off his back with a particularly tricky aerial maneuver. She actually had no idea a Dragon could _bend_ like that, let alone in midair! Too bad for Alduin that she performed an Intervention just before his ivory white teeth could close around her.

_That_ was when Alduin made Helgen a massacre to remember.

* * *

When Nerevar fell into a stream in some town in front of some shrine, all she could do was giggle at the remembered look in Alduin's eyes. She paid no attention to the people who were staring at the apparent mage who had fallen from thin air. She thought to herself idly as she picked herself up and dried herself with a quick spell 'It's too bad Alduin's a Dragon bent on eating Nirn. He was quite the conversationalist. Though I'm curious how I knew his language… Eh, must be something to do with the latest Prophecy.'


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Map Quest

A/N: Heh. I was reading Dragonrend, excellent concept, and I was struck with the idea that another story provided. Would it not be hilarious if Nerevar "Made love instead of War"? Ha!

PS: Like the new format?

* * *

After Nerevar gathered herself she set off to find someone who could give her a _current_ map of Skyrim _not_ an outdated one. She explored the entire town of what she learned was Whiterun, even taking a dunk in the cataracts and the waterways to make sure a dastardly shopkeeper had not gotten clever on her. There was no cartographer shop she could find so Nerevar made her way to the, more famous, local smithy to see if they could work with Alduin's scales. Despite the fact she had never visited a smith in her long life that was not behind a counter, Nerevar was not shocked to find the Nord Eorlund half naked. 'At least he's not _naked_. Though that might happen if that leather catches on fire…' She thought to herself with a snicker.

"I hear you're supposed to be the best smith in all of Skyrim. Can you work with these then?"

Eorlund stood up from his grindstone, curious about the richly armored figure that extended a gauntleted hand with a single onyx scale about the size of a fist resting in it. Eorlund snatched up the scale and gasped as he saw it was an _extremely high quality_ Dragon scale. The only reason he could recognize the material was because a single, worn scale had been passed down for generations for identification purposes. Eorlund had only dreamed of making such armor, along with Daedric armor due to the rarity of Daedric hearts. Eorlund looked at the smiling Dark Elf with awed eyes.

"By the Divines…_where_ did you _get _this?" She grinned at him silver hair, shining in the sunlight where it escaped from her helm, magnifying the sparkling effect of her grin.

"I kind of…ripped them off of the back of a Dragon named Alduin." In the effort to not lose his sanity, Eorlund did what many people did when confronted by Nerevar's Nerevarness. He went into shock, his mind numbing to safeguard his poor wits.

"Did you know Alduin the World Eater is the firstborn son of Akatosh?" She blinked at him in mild surprise, causing him to mentally whimper at the idea of how _angry_ Alduin must be.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have gone after these oh so pretty scales then…but what's done is done. Now can you work with these or not?" Eorlund nodded blandly "What did you want made from these scales then?" She began to list want she wanted.

"One ear cuff inset with this Soul Gem fragment, one pair of earings carved into the symbol for hurricanes, and ten rings." That took care of the five scales she had managed to pry off Alduin with one to spare. She would be able to enchant her new jewelry as needed, which would prove to be so very useful. Eorlund nodded and took the scales as he set to work at his forge; the shock would wear off later.

Nerevar hopped down into the Boathouse's training yard, pleased Eorlund would be able to make her items but she felt she might be better off leaving the smith to himself. That was for latter though, now was the time to check out the very strange house made from a boat or ship. She did not notice how they all stared at her when she leapt down from the forge. She hummed lightly as she looked over the, mostly, burly warriors clad in _poor_ armor. Nerevar chose to approach what seemed to be two brothers, one that was lean and wiry and the other that was tall and burly.

"Why is your house made from a ship?" The burly one shrugged honestly while the wiry one just gave Nerevar this smirk that made her want to put either an arrow in his eye socket or a dagger in his belly.

"The name's Farkas and this is my brother Vilkas. Usually people are asking to join up with the Companions, not about why Jorrvaskr is basically a ship turned upside down." Nerevar chuckled, knowing how true it had been for every other organization she had been in except the Camona Tong and the Brotherhood.

"Nerevar of House Telvanni, other things too, at your service." She added in a flourish at the end that made Vilkas scowl and Farkas laugh. "Farkas, Vilkas, you two wouldn't happen to know where to find a cartographer would you?" Farkas shook his head, but Vilkas answered her.

"The Jarl has maps, but good luck getting him to part with one of his precious maps Milkdrinker." Nerevar almost thanked him till he pulled out the insult and that made her blood boil even hotter than a Destruction spell fired into standing water. Farkas did not even blink as his brother was beaten black and purple, along with some nifty Destruction magics like Azura's Hammer, by Nerevar for his crimes before she left for Dragonsreach in a snit. Farkas did not often have the chance to chastise his brother, so he relished the moment greatly along with the mocking laughter coming from Skjor and Aela.

"Vilkas…you icebrain." His brother snarled at him like the werewolf he was, before whimpering in pain; that Hammer had _hurt_. "What did we learn today brother?" Farkas asked patiently as Vilkas scowled in both agony and petulance.

"Do not insult people clad in Daedric armor…"

"That'll do Vilkas, that'll do." Vilkas stared up at his brother who was grinning as he crouched above him. He was pretty sure that Farkas had just insulted him. _Subtly_ insulted him to boot. Which was odd since Farkas did not really associate with something like 'subtle', at least not usually. Vilkas felt a chill go down his spine. His little brother was growing more cunning... that was _not _a good sign. Maybe Alduin was getting ready to snack on Nirn?


End file.
